


The King of Sin City

by Winchester_with_Wings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, Drabble, Drabble Request, F/M, Fluff, Gambling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:57:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4978051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble Prompt Requested by @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel: “I wasn’t planning on asking you, but it appeared to me that life is short. Will you marry me?”</p><p>You were a young blackjack dealer on the strip when high roller Crowley sweeps you off your feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King of Sin City

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever Crowley x Reader fic! My first ever drabble too. shortest thing so far :)

You were a blackjack dealer at an old dusty casino when you first met Crowley. You were young. He was older; scruffy and confident with his gravelly British accent. There were likely some daddy issues that needed your attention which could explain your attraction to him. 

The attraction was mutual. Even when he wasn’t winning, he’d tip you way more than necessary. Eventually, he’d started buying you a drink after your shift and then one day asked you out to dinner. 

By the time that he’d finally asked you out, Crowley was rolling in the dough. You knew he was going to other casinos, playing for and winning more money. He started wearing nicer suits, sleek and black, making him even more devilishly handsome. You figured that maybe he was seeing other women, other dealers. But when he asked you out, it had seemed so genuine that you couldn’t say no. 

You dressed in your sexiest dress and he’d matched you with a black suit and a red tie. He took you to one of the nicer restaurants on the strip, walked you over to the Paris hotel for dessert and then you went through the Bellagio Botanical Garden where he kissed your hand and nothing more. The whole night was ridiculously romantic and a complete surprise coming from him.

The second date was more of what you’d imagined and hoped it would be. He had box seats for one of the major fights going on in town and when it was over and the two of your were buzzed from beer and cocktails and shots, he took you to the Luxor where he’d been comped a room and the two of you fucked like animals. 

More than a year or two since you’d first met, the passion between you and Crowley was still burning hot. You no longer worked as a dealer. He made more than enough money for the two of you. He’d started betting on more than the cards. He bet on the fights. On the horse races. On everything. 

He was a high roller now and you were his arm candy. He loved showing you off and lavishing you with expensive gifts. And you were happy to be shown off. He was on his way to becoming a king in Sin City and you were perfectly positioned to become his queen. 

Perhaps you were too dazzled by the jewelry, the cars, the clothes, the home he’d bought for the two of you…because that one night when you weren’t by his side was enough to break you out of your blissful ignorance. 

You were at home, cooking dinner in your ridiculously large kitchen when you got the call. 

“Ms. Y/L/N? This is Officer Rhodes with Vegas PD. I’m calling because a man by the name of Crowley was dropped off at the emergency room earlier tonight. He has you listed in his phone as his emergency contact.” You almost dropped your phone in the marinara sauce in front of you. 

“Yeah, I’m his girlfriend. Is…is he okay? Which hospital? Can I come see him?” You’re voice is shaky and your heartbeat and breathing becomes rapid. 

“M’am you don’t have to worry. The hospital is taking care of him and he’s going to be okay. You can come see him. It appears that someone roughed him up pretty badly. From the poker chips and betting slips from the tracks that we found in his pocket, we’re thinking it might have to do with some bookies. Were you aware that your boyfriend has a gambling problem?” You snap and reply saying that it’s never been a  _problem_  because he always wins. Usually. You don’t let the cop ask you anymore questions. You get the name of the hospital, grab your car keys and walk out the door.

Crowley is wide awake when you walk into his hospital room. You wonder if he’s paranoid or worried that the people who did this to him will come back to finish the job. He appears to put on a brave face and lets his guard down when he sees you though.

Your eyes brim with tears at the sight of him. He’s in one of those ugly hospital gowns. He’s got an oxygen mask on, covering his nose and mouth. There’s numerous scrapes on his face. Some of them have stitches, one of his eyes is bruised, and one of his arms is in a sling.

You sit on the side of his bed and hold his hand. He takes off the oxygen mask so that he can receive numerous kisses from you. Your tears fall onto his cheeks and catch in his salt and pepper beard. He strokes the side of your face.

“Hello darling,” he said in his soothing voice. It’s slightly quieter than normal and you worry that maybe he can’t breath or talk very well because he’s holding his ribs. 

“Are…are you okay?” you ask him, needing to hear it from him. He nods, putting the oxygen mask over his mouth for a few more breaths. “Who did this to you?”

“Some bookie bitch named Abbadon, and her thugs,” Crowley grumbles, removing the mask to talk. 

“Did you tell the cops? That Officer Rhodes?” Crowley grimaces and gives you this confused and astounded look. 

“Of course not! I’m going to deal with her myself.” You laugh, seeing the fire ignite behind his eyes. That’s why you love him. The passion. The way he takes charge of the situation. It’s always made your life and lovemaking exciting. “But that’s not important right now. I need to talk to you about something.” You stay quiet, prompting him to continue. He twines your fingers with his and captures your stare. “ **I wasn’t planning on asking you,** ” he starts, “ **at least not yet, but after tonight, it appeared to me that life is short.** ” He squeezes your fingers with all the strength he can muster.  **“Will you marry me?”**  

Your eyes fill with tears, tears from the fearful realization that you could’ve lost him tonight, tears of humorous frustration that now is when he finally picks the time to propose, but also tears of joy because you’ve been waiting for him to ask you that question since he kissed your hand at the botanical garden.

You want to tease him about his timing but the look on his face is utterly serious, anticipating your answer. You see the love in his eyes though. You’re one of the only people who can elicit and detect that emotion in him. You don’t make him wait very long before giving your answer. 

“Of course, darling. What took you so long?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think! ;) xoxo


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